


into the depths

by twistedroses



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Neverland (Once Upon a Time)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:08:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28945662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedroses/pseuds/twistedroses
Summary: Running out of options to save Henry, Emma and Hook venture to Mermaid Lagoon, to the dangerous and treacherous mermaids for a desperate attempt at their help. There is no assurance it will work, but to save her son, Emma is willing to do whatever it takes.Written as a part of the CS Neverland New Year Event.
Relationships: Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan
Comments: 10
Kudos: 83
Collections: CS Neverland New Year





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first foray into the Neverland arc, written for the CS Neverland New Year! This is set after 3.06 "Ariel" and the Echo Caves. I had a lot of fun with this story, I hope you enjoy!!

The night at the camp after the Echo Caves is quiet and subdued, everyone lost in their own thoughts. The initial discussion of retrieving Pan’s shadow had quickly faltered, the group deciding to wait for Regina to return before attempting that mission. The shadow is an entity all on its own, separate from Pan, and while Hook had seemed confident Emma was capable of securing it without Regina’s aid, her parents had objected to the danger and so, here they are, waiting around.

Yet again.

Emma tries not to be angry at this situation, knowing logically it is fine to wait for Regina to return, that it may be safer in the longer run. But it’s been several hours since, and she still hasn’t returned from wherever she went off to earlier. And so, the remainder of their mix-mash of a group sit around the fire, the silence amongst them anything but comfortable.

Emma almost wishes for Regina’s presence, not only so they can go after the shadow but for at least some snarky remark to break this tension. The Echo Caves are living up to their reputation, the aftershocks of its secrets leaving everyone in a strained silence that seems to fester and persist the longer it lasts.

Neal is sat on a log in the centre of the camp, munching on a pitiful dinner of leftover hardtack from the _Jolly Roger_ and a handful of berries Hook has deemed safe, while Hook himself is sharpening his sword at the other end of the camp. Neither has so much as looked at the other since they returned and took their seats in their respective corners.

There is some history between them, something Emma doesn’t understand. She knows Neal spent time with Hook in Neverland previously – the cutlass leaning against her bedroll a reminder of it – but whatever occurred in that time is still a mystery. Though, it clearly didn’t end well, given the glares Neal sends Hook every so often, while Hook’s brow is furrowed in a twisted, painful expression unrelated to his work on the sword.

In the centre of the camp, David pokes miserably at the dying fire, casting mournful glances over to his wife every so often, who is already lying down on her bedroll, her back to the rest of the group. Mary Margaret hasn’t said a word since they left the Echo Caves – other than to object to finding the shadow without Regina – and it’s not looking like she will do so anytime soon.

Emma herself is at a loss of what to do now. She’s resorted to pacing the outskirts of the camp, her mind racing as she tries to think up their next steps to save Henry. But its hard to do so when her mind keeps returning to the Echo Caves and the secrets it has revealed. Even with Hook’s warnings about his crew, Emma wasn’t prepared. Not at all.

She glances over to Mary Margaret, silent on her bedroll. It was hard for Emma to hear that David was poisoned and cursed to remain on Neverland too, but she can only imagine how that blow has landed with Mary Margaret. Emma feels like she should reach out to her, try to comfort her. But she can’t think of the words. Mary Margaret’s own secret from the Echo Caves is fresh in Emma’s mind, leaving her stunned and lost.

_She’s all grown up._

_We missed it, David._

_I want to have another baby._

Each secret was a whiplash, even her own regarding Neal and the wish that he was still dead, and Emma is beginning to understand what Pan’s game was. Make them reveal their darkest secrets to tear them apart, to distract them from the real reason they are here.

She hates to admit it, but it’s working. David and Mary Margaret’s secrets had hurt her perhaps the most, a form of abandonment all over again – David’s physically, Mary Margaret’s emotionally.

Emma finds herself glancing over to Hook, who is still silently examining his sword. His secret on the other hand …

_Until I met you._

She would be lying if she said that it hadn’t made her heart skip a beat. The sincerity, the honesty, the _truth_ of it. It knocked all the wind from her lungs. She’d wanted to reach out to him, to say something, _anything_ , but before she could gather her wits about her, other secrets had been spilled, sending her spiralling all over again.

Emma straightens her back and forces all those thoughts away. Hook, Mary Margaret, David, Neal – they and all their secrets and their potential implications can wait. Henry is the only one that matters here.

“We need to discuss our next steps,” Emma says, marching to the centre of the camp, hands on her hips as she surveys the others. “We can’t just sit here and wait for Regina forever.”

“Agreed,” David says, and he drops the long stick he was using as a fire poker, sending sparks from the dying fire floating through the air. “Who knows when she’ll be back.”

Neal sets down his half-finished meal, and frowns. “Is Tink around here still?” he asks. “She could –”

“She won’t help us,” Emma replies flatly, a flash of irritation at the fairy who had so quickly fled at the first sight of danger. “We already asked her. She won’t help us get into Pan’s camp until we have a plan to get away from Neverland after saving Henry. And for that, we need to wait for Regina to get the shadow.”

The camp falls silent, then Neal asks, “Has Pan ever said what he wants with Henry? Like, what he brought him for?”

“No,” Emma admits. “He’s just been playing games with us. But maybe … maybe if we could figure that out, we could at least stop him before he hurts Henry anymore than he already has.”

Hook sets down his sword and the sharpening stone then, stroking absently at his face, brow furrowed in thought. “We could ask the mermaids.”

Emma turns to face him, taken aback by the suggestion. “The – mermaids?”

He nods, thoughtfully. “Aye. They may –”

“You want to ask the _mermaids_ who attacked your ship for help?” David demands, interrupting with incredulity. “They nearly killed all of us, and Emma almost drowned because of them! There is no way they would help us!” 

“Perhaps not,” Hook admits, his tone calm in the face of David’s outburst. “But they may be our only option. The mermaids can travel this island in a way no one else can – through the water, and even Pan’s camp must be near a water source. Perhaps they will know why he’s brought Henry here.”

Emma’s heart is starting to beat faster, a chance of hope accelerating it. Neal is glaring at Hook with narrowed eyes, though he has leaned forward to hear better, and even Mary Margaret rolls over now, propped up on her elbow to listen.

“Did you say the mermaids attacked the _Jolly Roger_?” Neal asks, his eyes crinkling with a frown.

“Yes, and tried to sink it with a storm,” David adds pointedly, glaring at Hook.

“Aye, they did,” Hook says, shrugging. “But, as Emma so eloquently discovered, the storm was worsened by our squabbles. If we can keep our wits about us this time, a cursed storm will not be a problem.” 

Emma’s eyebrows raise. Hook hardly ever uses her first name, reserving her addresses to ‘Swan’ or the epithet ‘love.’ ‘Emma’ sounds different coming from his mouth, and then couple that with a genuine compliment with no flirtatious undertone … well, Hook is full of surprises tonight.

“I don’t think they’ll help us,” Neal says, his sour tone bringing Emma back to reality. He crosses his arms, leaning back on his heels as he frowns at Hook. “They were with Pan last time I was here.”

“Allegiances change,” Hook replies, meeting Neal’s eyes in a measured, even gaze, and something unspoken passes between them then. Neal’s expression contorts, from a quick flash of anger and betrayal and confusion. He scowls at Hook, his cheeks reddening slightly in a sign Emma remembers as anger, and looks away, kicking at the loose twigs at his feet.

David and Emma exchange a glance while Mary Margaret, oblivious, sits up from her bedroll, rising from her feet to join them around the dying fire.

“I knew a mermaid once,” she says, growing excitement in her tone. “She saved me from drowning, and then even helped save me from Regina. If these mermaids are anything like her, we can definitely count on them to help us.”

“I wouldn’t necessarily say that,” Hook interjects rapidly. “Unfortunately, these mermaids may not be as helpful as any you met previously, milady. Neverland is a cruel place. The mermaids who live here … they’ve had to adapt to survive.” 

He doesn’t elaborate, and Emma can only imagine what they’ve had to go through. She’s seen firsthand the way the Lost Boys and Tinkerbell have had to adapt to this cursed island, even Neal with his cave and its meagre survival tools. 

David, clearly recalling the mermaids influence on their arrival here in Neverland, shakes his head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea,” he says, one hand lingering at the sword at his hip, as if challenging Hook to disagree. “The mermaids here are monsters, you said it yourself.”

“And they may betray us to Pan,” Neal adds, dismissing the conversation as he settles back on the log, ready to resume his meal.

Emma’s frustration bubbles over, her hands curl into fists at her side, arms stiff at the conscious effort to resist the urge to start punching things. Why are they all content to _sit_ around, waiting for Regina to return, when this idea could help them save her son from a maniac?

“Pan already knows everything about us! He can appear wherever he likes on this island, do whatever he wants! If these mermaids could help us save Henry, who cares if they tell Pan? He’ll probably already know anyways! If this could help us, we have to try!”

David and Neal remain silent as they stare back at her, disagreement plain on their faces, though at least Neal has stopped eating again. Over the fire’s dying embers, Emma catches Hook’s eye. His expression is carefully neutral, but there’s a determined edge to his eye, and he nods imperceptibly at her. 

He clears his throat, making David and Neal glare at him. That doesn’t deter him, and he says, “They may be our best chance at trying to find out more information to save Henry.”

Neal scowls at Hook, and David throws his hands up in the air in dismay. Mary Margaret, however, seems intrigued.

“I think it’s worth a shot,” she says, breaking the unspoken tie. “Let’s go find the mermaids.”

David and Neal are not happy, dragging their feet, but Emma and Hook do not waste any time. They gather up several water canteens, Hook warning it may be quite the walk to reach the mermaids from their camp, while Mary Margaret leads the charge of gathering her bow and arrow and extra weapons for Neal.

Finally, they are ready to set off. The bright, full moon guides their path, filtering down through the jungle canopy in a scattered pattern, shadowed by the thick foliage above. Hook leads them, the rest following in a single file line through the narrow path that has been previously forged through the thick jungle.

Emma feels lighter than she has in a few days, the prospect of a task, of a goal, lifting her spirits. Though she is confident this is a good idea (better at least than sitting around while her son is suffering), the further they walk into the jungle, towards these potentially angry and lethal mermaids, questions of doubt trickle into her mind.

What if the mermaids don’t help them? They’ll have wasted all this time hiking to their lake or wherever Hook is leading them, when perhaps Regina may have returned in the meantime. What if this is just a waste of time, a useless delay, and it ends up with Henry suffering for longer?

Hook is several paces ahead of her, slashing at some fallen vines with his hook, and she increases her speed, scrambling over the loose roots in order to keep up with his hurried strides.

“Do you really think the mermaids will help us?” she asks, glancing back to the others. They are far enough behind that no one appears to have heard her question; if David or Neal got a sense that Emma was questioning this mission too, she’s sure they would be just as happy to turn around this moment.

Hook sighs, brushing his hair out of his face, and regards her with a somewhat sad smile. “I hope so, Swan. They are tricky and slippery creatures, who will parlay with us, if only for their own amusement. They have no regard for me, but neither do they have any love for Pan. He has not been kind to them.” Hook pauses, holding up a large leaf so Emma can pass underneath it, before adding, “To hurt him, they may help us.”

Emma can only hope he’s right.

They continue in silence, Hook guiding them through a small clearing to another long, winding pathway. This one is down a slope, steep and precarious, and at one point, though Emma is trying her best to keep an eye on her path, the dark night of Neverland bests her.

She loses her footing, skidding down several feet of loose rocks and damp leaves. Emma cries out in surprise, her stomach swooping with the sudden drop of gravity, and she braces herself for the fall, which is looking to be down several dozen feet of rocks and tree roots onto the rocky ground below.

But Hook, as if on instinct, reaches out to her as she stumbles past him, grabbing her arm with his hand and his hook catching a belt loop in her jeans. He tugs her back up to standing, jerking her upright fast enough to make her stomach squeeze with nausea once more, and swivelling her close to him. 

“Are you alright, Swan?”

His breath tickles her face, and Emma realizes then, just how close she is to him, practically in his arms. Even in the dark jungle, his features are in clear relief, and the last time she was this close to him … well, she kissed him.

“I’m fine,” she says, a bit breathlessly, which she absolutely attributes to the adrenaline rush, _not_ Hook’s hand on her skin, the cold metal of the hook at the low of her back, or the sight of his face so close to hers once again. She steps away from him to more sturdy ground a few feet down the slope, brushing her hair back and out of her face, wishing again for the hundredth time she’d brought a hair tie with her to Neverland. “Thanks, um, for catching me.”

Hook nods and turns, continuing carefully down the slope. Emma follows him, her heartbeat slowly returning to normal as they head to the bottom of the slope. When they reach the bottom, pausing to wait for the others to come down carefully too, Emma turns to Hook.

“Hook,” she starts, thinking wisely of her next words. She’s been trying to think of how to say this for several days now, but with this latest suggestion on how to help save Henry and now just saving her from a potential broken leg or arm, it reminds her that … well, he’s here. He doesn’t have to be. But he is, and she’s not sure she’s able to fully communicate how much that means. “I wanted to say thanks for helping us find Henry. I don’t – I don’t think I’ve really said that yet. You didn’t have to help us to get here, and then help us since and I … I appreciate it.”

“Of course, love,” he says, his voice soft. He glances up the slope to the other three, slowly making their way down, and a dark shadow passes briefly over his expression. “There have been far too many boys lost to this island; if I can be of any help to save one more, it is my duty.”

Mary Margaret, David, and Neal reach the bottom of the slope then, and after checking in with Emma to make sure she is okay, the group continues their trek, through the dark jungle of sprawling roots, broken branches, and heavy, dew-soaked leaves. Emma is more careful this time, watching each step closely, but even still she slips a few times here or there.

This walk seems to be taking forever, Emma’s emotions fraught with both nervousness of approaching a group of mermaids who probably work for Pan and may not even help them, but also the general sense of anxiety and stress she’s felt since Henry was first taken. Her good mood has dissipated as quickly as it came, leaving her hollow with anxiety.

Finally, after they’ve been walking for at least an hour, Hook pushes through a dense crowd of bushes, leading them out onto a dark, sandy beach.

Ahead of them is an enormous lake, far larger than what Emma was imagining which, in all honesty, was essentially the pond from the Disney movie.

His voice grim, Hook announces, “Mermaid Lagoon.”

The term ‘lagoon’ is a misnomer, as this is a true lake, with black water rippling gently in the light breeze, water stretching far out into the dark horizon. Emma can only just see to the other side of the lake, where it meets the slope of a stony mountain, while the water disappears into the dark horizon to the west.

The water is mostly smooth and calm, but a dark cluster of rocks breaks the surface several hundred feet away, creating a small current and white tipped waves near its shores. The rocks are like a castle floating in the middle of the lake, with some rocks towering tall like towers and casting dark shadows out over the water.

“How are we going to find them in this huge lake?” Emma asks, disappointment already oozing into her thoughts. She wasn’t expecting this.

Hook looks to the sky, where the bright full moon shines faintly through a wisp of clouds, and gestures to the rocks with his hooked arm. “That’s where they’ll be. There are a few different clans in these waters, but they always convene on the full moon.”

It sometimes still surprises her how much he knows about this island, even though they’ve been here for days at this point and Emma realizes that he’s literally Captain Hook and this is Neverland. It’s a strange concept, trying to wrap her brain around the fact that he did spend two hundred years here, trapped by as much his thoughts of revenge as this cursed place itself.

Of course he’d know a lot about the mermaids and their habits.

“Okay, so how do we get over there?” Mary Margaret asks, as she, David and Neal join them at the tree line. She rubs at her face in exhaustion, her cheeks are hollow in the moonlight with dark shadows under her eyes. “Swim?”

“There will be a boat around here somewhere,” Hook replies, squinting around the dark beach. “This place is one of the only spots on the island that is protected against magic, even from Pan’s powers. He’d need some form of transportation to get over there.”

They spread out to search the dark beach. Emma’s feet sink into the soft sand as she keeps close to the gently lapping shoreline. Even with the full moon ahead, its dark here and after several minutes of walking, she doesn’t so much find a boat, as run directly into it.

Rubbing at her shin, Emma squints at the boat at her feet. It’s the size of the small rowboats Emma saw in Tallahassee several years ago, the ones with fathers and their kids eagerly packing their supplies for the day of fishing on the local waterways. This boat is made entirely of rough driftwood, sanded down to be smooth, with two benches facing each other constructed in the centre of it.

“Over here!” Emma calls, waving at the others, now scattered over the beach. “I found it!”

It takes several minutes for everyone to re-group near her, and Hook is the last to join them. He takes in the small boat and grins at her with delight.

“Excellent eyes, Swan. This will be perfect.”

Neal nudges the boat with his foot, sloshing the dark water, leaving the sand where it touches stained an inky black, dark even against the night. “You’re going to go across the lake in this puny thing?”

“Aye. Though I expect it only capable of holding one or two of us.”

David steps forward immediately, rolling up his sleeves. “I’ll go.”

“You’ve done enough adventuring for one trip,” Mary Margaret says flatly and David deflates under her gaze, his hand unconsciously moving to hover over the now-healed arrow wound at his side. “Besides,” she continues, “the last time you got near a mermaid, you threatened to cut her throat.”

David steps back, his cheeks reddening in shame. Mary Margaret herself makes no move to volunteer, and Neal is standing off to the side, looking anywhere but at the rest of them. Its no matter – Emma has already made her decision, glancing to Hook. He meets her gaze evenly, determined and set.

“Hook and I will go.”

David exchanges a look with Mary Margaret, and gestures at the small boat, bobbing gently in the water. “No offense, Hook, but how will you row the boat?” 

Hook’s eyes flash. “I suspect we won’t need any oars,” he says simply, and he bends down, running his hand along the edge of the boat. “This is enchanted wood. Similar to the same wood in the _Jolly Roger._ ” 

“Hook knows the mermaids better than any of us,” Emma adds, trying very hard not to glare at David for that comment. “He has to be one of the two to go. And,” she adds, before they can throw in any of their protective parent disagreements, “if anyone is going to get information that will help save Henry, it’s going to be me.”

She lifts her chin, hands on her hips, challenging anyone to disagree with her. Though her parents do not look pleased and Neal appears downright sour, no one says anything else in defiance. Mary Margaret and David set about filling several canteens of water from the lake. As they load them into the small boat, Hook examines it, inspecting for any signs of leaks or holes.

Emma steps away from the group slightly, fastening and tightening the cutlass straps that keep the sword tight and secure against her back, taking a moment to prepare herself for whatever she and Hook are about to face.

Neal wanders over to her, his hands shoved in his pockets. “Good luck out there.”

“Thanks.” 

“Not just with the mermaids,” he continues, tilting his head in the direction of the small boat, where Hook is bent over it, his necklace brushing the edge of the boat.

Emma tries not to sigh _too_ heavily at the implication Hook is part of the danger in this mission. She knows they have some dark history, but Neal wasn’t there with them on the _Jolly Roger_ when they first arrived in Neverland, when these very same mermaids had attacked them, when Hook had helped save Emma from drowning in the churning seas.

“Listen, Neal –”

“He betrayed a lot of people when he was here last,” Neal persists, stubbornly. “Those mermaids are no different. You said they attacked the _Jolly Roger_ when you first got here – why do you think they would do that?”

Her hand hesitates over the clasp. That’s a question she hasn’t really considered before …

Neal notices her hesitation, and he nods pointedly. “Like I said,” he continues, his voice low. “Be careful.”

Emma finishes tightening the sword and tries not to grimace when she smiles reassuringly back at Neal. “We’ll be fine.”

She walks back to the small boat before Neal can say anything else, joining Hook at its side.

“Any holes?”

“No, it’s ship shape,” he replies, straightening up. “Ready, Swan?”

Emma nods, and suddenly reminded of the last time they did something like this. Standing beside Hook, about to embark on an adventure, just the two of them – its like they are standing at the base of the beanstalk again, back in the Enchanted Forest. Then, Hook had had his own agenda, had been consumed in revenge and his own goals, and Emma didn’t trust him for a moment.

It’s surprising how different it feels now, regardless of Neal’s implications.

Now, Hook is the only person she would want to go with on this trip across Mermaid Lagoon, to ask a group of mythical creatures for their help in rescuing her son from a demented kidnapper. There’s no ulterior motive this time – Hook is here, in Neverland, the home of one of his sworn enemies, volunteering to travel across a black lake to face mermaids to help save her son. Who, if Neal’s information is accurate, he may have screwed over before.

There’s no benefit to Hook to go on this trip, and yet, here he is, standing opposite her, determined and ready to save her son. 

Emma sets her jaw resolutely. “Let’s do this.”

Hook clambers into the boat first, hand out to help Emma in. Normally she would ignore it out of principle, but the unsteadiness of the water underneath the small boat has her grasping out for it. She expects some snarky comment or perhaps a refusal to let go of her hand, but to his credit, he simply helps her into the boat, his palm rough against hers, and releases her hand once she has her own footing. 

As Hook predicted, the boat carries no oars or other ways to steer or propel them forwards. Instead, as Emma and Hook they settle into their seats, the boat gently pushes off from the sandy shore, gliding out into the dark lake.

“If we’re not back in a few hours, keep going, keep looking for Henry!” Emma calls. “Find Regina and get that shadow!”

The three figures of David, Mary Margaret, and Neal soon fade into small black dots against a dark shoreline, and then disappear altogether.

The tower of rocks in the centre of the lake looms ahead of them, and as they drift closer towards it, a cool breeze kicks up, sending goosebumps down Emma’s bare arms. Most of the time she is overheating in Neverland, with its oppressive jungle heat at all times of the day, hence her abandonment of her black peacoat the moment they arrived, but here out on the water, it’s the opposite. The dark water splashing over the edge is icy, chilling her to the bone. Emma wishes she had brought her jacket, but that is still folded up as her pillow back at camp, so she rubs at her arms, trying to bring some warmth back into them.

Hook, of course, notices.

“Are you cold, Swan?”

“I’m fine.”

He rolls his eyes at her and shrugs out of his large jacket. He holds it out to Emma, but she doesn’t take it, raising her eyebrow in a challenge. He lets out a huff of a laugh, laying it out over her knees instead.

“No sense getting a chill before we’ve even arrived. You’ll need all your strength and wits about you, love.”

The jacket is heavy and warm draped across her knees, and Emma lifts it up, slipping her arms through the sleeves, sheltering more of her body. “Thanks,” she says, begrudgingly.

“You’re most welcome.” 

They lapse into a silence as they cruise across the lake, the coldness of the air brushing against Emma’s face and making her shiver.

“So … mermaids, huh?” she starts, curious but at the same time hoping conversation will distract her from the cold biting at her skin. “I didn’t even know they existed outside of stories until we arrived here.”

He tilts his head at her, eyes narrowed. “Sounds like most of my world is simply stories in yours.”

She nods, thinking of the numerous movies and books on Snow White and Neverland and every other magical character she’s come across so far. “You’ve got no idea. But they’re twisted. I mean, the stories are different than …” She trails off, and waves her hand vaguely in his direction, unsure exactly how to put it.

He nods seriously but his eyes have a twinkle of humour. “Like your moustache and perm comment.”

Emma laughs, imagining the animated Captain Hook, with his exaggerated features and brilliant red coat, versus the man in front of her – almost unfairly handsome, who dresses entirely in black leather, with a loose cotton shirt lacking any effort at buttons. Lethal where the cartoon is a buffoon. Perhaps the only story in her world that had gotten a fact right was the original book, which described his dark hair and blue eyes, as blue as forget-me-not flowers.

Its far too easy for Emma to stare at those blue eyes, to be lost in them, and she shakes herself, continuing, rather hurriedly, “I mean, mermaids, for example. The most famous mermaid in my world isn’t a monster; she’s a curious adventurer and the hero of the story.”

Hook’s humour fades, and he frowns. “Aye, love. In that sense, our worlds are similar. Most mermaids are not monsters. But like I said, Neverland is not a kind home. To live, to thrive here … the softest among them are long gone and the remainder are dangerous.

Neal’s warning from the shore about Hook and the mermaids lingers in her mind, a trail of doubt creeping in.

“Hook, when we first got here, they attacked the _Jolly Roger_. Why did they do that?”

Hook fiddles with the end of his hook. “It was most likely on Pan’s orders. He has some arrangement with them. I’ve never been able to figure out what he has over them, but he probably had them out on patrol in case you showed up. Though,” he muses, “we had our fair share of disagreements when I was here, before. They like to hold grudges, these mermaids. It may as well of been my doing as Pan’s.”

Her heart sinks; perhaps there had been something to Neal’s warning after all. “What did you do?”

“Nothing too nefarious,” he says, with a wry grin that rapidly fades again into a dark, almost morose expression. “But you live in one place for too long, you tend to gather enemies, especially ones who like to hoard treasure and work for your enemy.”

They lapse into another silence then, and don’t speak again until the boat begins to slow. Emma twists her body as the boat slows its approach, to a rocky beach similar to the one at the other end of the lake, with dark sand and a gentle lapping of the waves against the shore.

This time, however, instead of a jungle framing the beach, it is all rocks, some jagged and sharp like knives, others low and flattened by the water’s erosion, and goosebumps rise on Emma’s skin as Hook jumps out of the boat, tugging it the last few feet onto shore.

“This place is creepy,” she comments, rubbing at her arms as she rises to her feet now, leaving Hook’s warm jacket behind. There is a faint breeze now, and though it is only a feeble wind, it is icy and cuts at her bare arms.

“Aye,” he replies darkly, straightening and glaring at the rocks around them. “This is Marooners’ Rock.”

“Marooners’ Rock?”

Hook is gazing out to the distance, and Emma follows his eyeline. A flat outcropping of rock hangs out over the water, a sheer cliff over the swirling waters below.

“So named after all those who left their crew here to die.”

Hook looks away from the outcropping, offering no more explanation, and continues, “Come, Swan. They’ll be on the other side, facing out into the lake.”

He holds his hand out to her, and Emma takes it, climbing out of the boat onto the soft, black sand. She glances to the outcropping, and this time when she shivers, it has nothing to do with the cold.

The small boat has dropped them off at the bottom of a set of cliffs, towering about thirty feet above them, with a carved staircase leading up from the beach into the rocks above. Though Hook called this a ‘rock’, its truly a little island all into itself, and Emma feels daunted by the scale of it all.

They leave Hook’s heavy jacket in the boat, along with the water canteens and head off, up the stone staircase. At the top of the staircase is a rocky plateau, with a stunning view of the jungle of Neverland all around them. Emma glances behind her, squinting back at the beach for any sign of the others, but the shore is too far away now. Only the thick black jungle stares back at her, oppressive and silent.

For whatever reason, it spooks her and makes her angry at the same time. Here they are, stranded in an unknown, hostile world, her son lost and in danger. It makes her blood boil with anger, anger at the sheer fact that this is even happening in the first place, and Emma turns back to Hook, who is watching her with an unreadable expression.

“What?” Emma asks, more defensively than she perhaps means it to be.

“You need another weapon, Swan.”

Automatically, Emma refuses. “I have the cutlass,” she says, shifting to show Hook the blade strapped to her back.

His eyes trace her movement, the turn of her body, and his voice is low when he says, “Never hurts to have a back up, Swan. Especially against these creatures.”

Strapped to his belt, slung low around his hips, hangs several weapons – in addition to his own sword, there are two short daggers in brown leather wrappings and a short black scabbard. He unfastens the black scabbard, and holds it out to Emma, an ivory handle gleaming at her.

“Here. Take it.”

Something lingers in his words, and Emma doesn’t argue again. She takes it from him and slides the dagger out of its scabbard, revealing a lethally sharp silver blade that gleams in the moonlight. She tucks it into the side of her boot, so that only the emerald tipped pommel shows and nods at him.

“Thanks. Where to from here?”

He gestures to the other side of the plateau. “They will be over there.”

She gestures for him to continue, and then follows him down another roughly carved stone staircase, into the darkness of the rocks below, to whatever and _whoever_ await them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was getting too long for a one-shot, so the rest will be up shortly.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	2. Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note: this chapter may not be for those who are sensitive to the topic of drowning.

The second stone staircase is more roughly built than the first, leading down from the plateau with steep and uneven steps. Emma takes each step carefully, cognizant of her last slip, which ended up with her in Hook’s arms.

There are a few close calls, where her foot catches a loose pebble or crumbling edge, but she manages to make it down to ground level without much incident. At this level, there are more black rocks, jagged and sharp, that reach at least ten feet into the sky. A small pathway is cut out of the rocks, shadowed on both sides from the tall stones.

Hook gestures to the opening. “Through there leads to a small cove, where the mermaids often convene.”

At Emma’s nod to continue, Hook leads the way, moving slowly and cautiously, his usual confidence and swagger faded into a cold, determined stride. His careful steps make Emma’s anxiety rise, because if Hook is on edge, she can only imagine what lies ahead.

The pathway is quiet, loose pebbles crunching under their feet, and as they draw nearer to a broad opening at the other end, faint chatter reaches Emma’s ears. Hook hears it at the same time, and he pauses, crouching down. He gestures for Emma to join him, and she does so, squatting beside him, their shoulders brushing.

The chatter continues, muffled and faraway, and Emma’s curiosity gets the better of her. She slowly raises her head, peeking out to take a look around the rocks, and when she sees the scene ahead of her, she has to stop herself from gasping aloud.

She saw the mermaid who had been brought onto Hook’s ship and the ones who had encircled the ship through the stormy currents, but it’s quite another thing to see a whole flock of them at peace instead of mid-attack.

About two dozen mermaids lounge on a weather-smoothed surface of the dark rocks, an inlet of gentle water brushing at their tails. Voluminous hair cascades down their backs, and they flick their tails absently, their scales silvery and gleaming in the moonlight. From far away, they look like the types of mermaids Emma grew up seeing in Disney movies.

That illusion shatters the closer she looks.

In the bright moonlight from above, the mermaids’ skin is pale and green-tinged, casting them in a sickly pallor. Several have their hair braided and adorned with kelp, coral and seashells, while others wear it loose and flowing, tangled by the water. A handful wear shirts sewn of seaweed or coarse seashell bras, but the majority are topless, with necklaces of sea glass and polished stones dangling loose over their chests.

The mermaids are in the middle of a grooming session, scattered around in twos or threes, touching up each other’s hair and rubbing at their tails to brighten their scales. They clatter amongst themselves, in a sharp chirping language that Emma dubs Mermish in her head, the sounds of it making her skin prickle with goosebumps.

She lowers her head back down, leaning against the cold rocks beside Hook. She can feel her jaw hanging open, as she tries to process that there is a literal gathering of mermaids ahead of her, when only a year ago they had been nothing more than myth and legend.

“Holy shit.”

Hook chuckles once, low and dark. “Succinctly put, Swan.”

He pokes his head up now, surveying the scene with narrowed eyes, and lets out a huff.

“It looks like there are three clans here. I was hoping we’d only come across one, but it is what it is. We will have to converse with their leaders to get anywhere. They’re called Darya, Alcyone, and Senara. Nasty bunch who live for arguing, but we will do our best at diplomacy, as only those three have the power to help us.”

He crouches back down beside her, brow furrowed as he thinks. “It may be best if I do the talking at first. Not that you wouldn’t be able to ask them for the help,” he adds swiftly at the expression on Emma’s face. “In fact, you are far more diplomatic than I ever could be, love. It is simply because these mermaids … are temperamental. They are unpredictable and quick to anger, and do not trust anyone they have not met with before. Especially other women.”

“Oh, that’s true?” Emma asks, surprised that any fact from her world is true, when most of the fairy tales and legends end up being so different. “That is a legend in my world about sirens, that they only like men.”

“It is a tendency of sirens, yes, and these mermaids in Neverland are similar. I think it is perhaps due to their poor experiences with a few of the fairies on this island. I remember once I came across them while with Tinkerbell, and it was not the most productive of meetings. They get jealous easily.”

Emma nods, though, to her surprise, she feels a twinge of annoyance at the mention of Tinkerbell, the implication that the mermaids would have any reason to be jealous of her and Hook.

She shakes her head, focusing on the task at hand. “Okay,” she agrees. “That’s fine.”

Hook nods at her, resting his hand on her arm briefly in reassurance. Then he’s standing, striding out from the small pathway. His confidence is returned to him now, the façade back in place, and Emma scrambles after him, following at a bit of distance as Hook steps out from the pathway, onto the smooth rocks of this plateau.

He clears his throat and calls out, in a pleasant if somewhat wry voice, “Greetings!”

His voice is like a gunshot, scattering the mermaids. Abandoning their grooming, they scream and yell out in their language, diving and scrambling for the water. There is a cascade of silver scales and the clatter of bodies hitting the still surface, splashes echoing around them, the water rising up and staining the rocky surface a dark black.

The rocks are mostly empty now, but three mermaids do not move from their perches, watching Hook and Emma with entirely black eyes. It unnerves her more than it probably should, and she assumes they must be the leaders Hook mentioned. Their superior and calm air is the sign of a political leader in any world, real or fantastical. 

Hook mutters their names to Emma as she takes them in, trying not to gape too openly. The mermaid closet to Emma is Alcyone. She could’ve been Ariel the Little Mermaid in another life, with shocking red hair in a twisted updo held in place by a crown of broken seashells. The second – Darya – wears a necklace of shark teeth at her throat, reminding Emma of a character from a horror movie, with long, stringy black hair hanging down like a damp curtain around her pale, empty face. Something about this one unnerves her even more than the others, and Emma tries to not look at her for too long.

The third is named Senara, and she lounges against the rocks, her tangled blonde hair held in an elaborate bun by a white clump of coral. A Celtic cross made of sea glass jangles around her neck, and though her eyes are as dark as the others, they don’t appear as hostile and cold, but curious instead.

“Only a fool would return here,” Alcyone states, her words staccato with an accent. She flicks her silvery tail, spraying them both with mist, and Emma tries not to flinch. “Though I suppose we should not be surprised to see you then, Captain Hook.”

Hook laughs, gesturing widely at the deserted rocks, the water still rippling with the effects of the mermaids re-entering it, though several mermaids are re-surfacing around them now, poking their heads out to observe.

“How could I resist another visit to your lovely cove, ladies?” he asks, voice smooth. It’s the voice Emma recognizes as the one he used on her, Mary Margaret, Mulan and Aurora in the Enchanted Forest, when he was trying to charm them and convince them to trust him. Suave and debonair and charming.

The mermaids, as Emma and the others had been in the Enchanted Forest, are unimpressed.

“You’ve brought us a present, I see,” Darya comments, peering through her dark curtain of hair at Emma. “Perhaps this time we will get to keep her.”

Two mermaids break the surface at Darya’s words, the nearest to Hook and Emma yet. They are younger than the other three on the rocks, teenagers by Emma’s estimate, though they appear no less deadly. Their black eyes are cold and expressionless, and they flick their tails absently in the shallow water, watching Emma and Hook like they are prey. One of them notices Emma’s stare, and she grins at her. Her teeth are all canines, sharpened to a lethal point, and Emma quickly looks away.

“Alas, we have no gifts for you,” Hook replies, a firm edge to his otherwise jovial tone. “Only a humble request for your aid.”

“You want our help?” Alcyone hisses, her face contorting with a true animalistic snarl that mars her humanoid features, and Emma stiffens at the sudden change. “Your witch turned one of our sisters into a wooden statue!”

The mermaids in the water mutter in agitation, several more rising to the surface and circling close to the rocks nearest Hook and Emma. Emma’s fingers twitch towards her sword, still securely sheathed at her back.

Hook reaches out towards Emma, resting it on her arm as if sensing her increasing anxiety, and flashes an apologetic grimace at the mermaids. “That was misguided, and you have my deepest apologies for it. We were under threat and acted out of fear. For you see, we are here trying to save a boy, who Pan has taken hostage.” 

“Pan takes many boys,” Alcyone snaps, waving a webbed hand airily. “That is not our concern.”

“This boy is different,” Hook says, sharply. “Unlike the other Lost Boys, he did not come to Neverland of his own volition. We are here to rescue him.”

“You wish our help to save one of the Lost Boys?” asks Senara, the blonde leader, speaking for the first time. For a while, Emma wasn’t even sure she was paying attention, but now she regards them with interest, and even a bit of sympathy. She tilts her head, surveying Emma up and down. “Are you his mother?”

Though her tone is kinder than the other two, Emma tries not to bristle at the assumption that Henry is one of the Lost Boys. Nevertheless, she nods. “Yes. Pan kidnapped him from our town of Storybrooke.”

“And you think we care?” Darya sneers. “He is simply another boy lost to this world, while our mermaid is _dead_.”

She pushes herself off her perch, diving into the water as effortlessly as an Olympic diver. When she resurfaces a moment later, her hair has parted enough to reveal her gaunt, skeletal face, and goosebumps rise on Emma’s skin.

“Now, now –” Hook starts, but the mermaid ignores him.

She raises her arm to point at him, the spitting image of a witch in a horror movie casting a curse. Her voice is haunted, almost robotic, as she states, “You robbed us of a soul on your last visit to us, Captain Hook, and have now caused us to lose one of our own upon your return to Neverland. For that, you owe us a debt.”

Emma exchanges an alarmed glance with Hook, as Darya calls out to the other mermaids in their austere language. Several mermaids in the water lunge forward, pulling themselves onto the rocks near Emma’s feet with surprising strength, sending an icy spray of water rushing over her feet.

She scrambles backwards, one of the mermaids reaching out for her leg and leaving her clawing at empty air.

“That’s enough!” Hook shouts, his voice surprisingly calm, though Emma can sense the growing anger beneath it. He draws his sword, pointing it at the mermaids near Emma’s feet, and flicks it at them to usher them away. “There’s no need for any hostility.”

Darya laughs, paddling lazily in the water, watching the scene with open glee, and she sneers at them. “Who are you to talk? Your kind only knows hostility.”

Senara calls out to Darya, frowning at her in displeasure, but Darya ignores her, instead yelling out a raucous battle cry to her fellows. The mermaids erupt from the water again, this time catapulting themselves closer to Hook and Emma.

Emma’s heart jumps into her throat, and she draws her sword, the air _whooshing_ past her ear as she does so. Her heart sinks at the aggressive, dangerous mermaids crawling towards them. This has escalated almost unbelievably quickly, and she understands now what Hook meant when he said they were temperamental and not to be trusted.

Emma glances at him, and he meets her gaze steadily over their drawn swords. He doesn’t appear surprised, only annoyed, his brow furrowed in frustration.

“There is no need for any violence,” he says, through gritted teeth. “We are here for your help.”

But the situation is now beyond help.

Of the several that approach Emma, the first to reach her is one of the young ones who had stared at her earlier, with the canine teeth. She claws at Emma’s legs with surprisingly sharp nails for webbed fingers, making Emma do an awkward dance to get out of her reach. Others join the first mermaid in swatting at her legs. They become a bit like ants, swarming at her feet, trying for a grip on her feet, and as she dodges their hands, Emma feels several webbed fingers crunch under her feet.

Unfortunately, her attempt to escape this bunch puts her in close proximity to another mermaid. This one reminds Emma vaguely of a ballerina, with pink seashells as her telling-adornment around her perfect ballerina’s bun. She reaches up with enormous strength and flexibility, grabbing Emma’s sword from her grasp. Without a word, she tosses it into the dark water behind her, as if it was nothing more than seaweed.

Emma watches the sword sink into the lake, dread filling her as it disappears into the black water. The ballerina mermaid grins back at her, hauling herself up onto the rocks to clamber towards her.

The only thing Emma can think to do is scramble backwards again, away from the water’s edge and as far out of their grasp as she can, but it’s barely enough. Two other mermaids pull themselves onto the rocks now, reaching for her. Emma kicks out at them as they do so, and her foot connects hard with one’s head, sending her neck snapping backwards.

The mermaid screams in agony, clutching at face, and she slithers back to the water, diving below and out of sight. The other mermaids gape at her, taken aback, and Emma takes advantage of the momentary pause to reach for the dagger in her boot, drawing it from its scabbard in one movement.

Armed and fueled with adrenaline, Emma turns to the mermaid who had first grabbed her leg. Emma swipes at her with the dagger, close enough to make the mermaid recoil as it brushes her cheek, snarling in fury as she drops back into the cove.

Emma whirls around, dagger poised to strike, but the two mermaids are backing away now, hissing and glaring at her. They slink back into the water, leaving her free of attack.

As she turns around to see here Hook is, Emma realizes the mermaids are surfacing in the water near him, circling and watching with their predatory eyes. Instead of splitting up as they had done at first, they’ve decided to get Hook instead.

He is distracted, dealing with a handful of other mermaids who are swiping out at his legs in an attempt to pull him down, and doesn’t notice the new group now watching him.

“Hook!” Emma shouts, and he glances over, eyes meeting hers over the scattered mermaids around them. “Behind you!”

Snarling, the mermaids erupt from the water again, showering Hook with the icy spray. Though they may not be able to move far on land, they have perfected the army-crawl, and Emma watches in horror as they clamber towards Hook, their tails whipping back and forth. Their scaled tails clatter on the rocky surface, water dripping from their bodies, and Emma is frozen at the sight, her brain still trying to catch up with what her eyes are seeing.

Hook shoves the mermaid he is currently dealing with roughly away from himself, sending her cascading into a few behind her like a bowling ball, the tangle of mermaids landing in the water with an enormous splash and shriek. He turns, flipping his sword to face the other mermaids, stalking towards them, face set and determined.

Emma shakes herself free of her stupor and jumps into action. He may have stunned the first group, but they are already re-surfacing with murderous expressions and there’s no way she’s letting him face all of them on his own.

She runs, half-slipping from puddles of water the mermaids have brought onto the rocks, clutching her dagger in her fist so hard her knuckles turn white. 

“Get away from him!” she shouts, as the mermaids reach Hook, webbed hands grabbing at his ankles and legs. One mermaid gets a firm grip on his ankle, making Hook do an awkward hop as he tries to shake her off.

Emma reaches him, steadying him as he nearly loses his balance, before slashing at the mermaid, making her scream in agony as the dagger drags across her forearm. Blood pours from her arm, spilling onto the rocks and Hook’s boots.

She releases Hook’s boot, clutching at her arm. She pivots to Emma, eyes somehow blacker than before, and Emma kicks at her, boot connecting hard with her stomach and knocking her into a few others behind her.

It’s a momentary victory, but it doesn’t last long. Deterred by Hook’s viciousness with his sword and the option of facing Emma’s mere dagger, several of the mermaids turn to her instead, staring at her with their hungry, cruel eyes.

She swings wildly with the dagger, hitting a shoulder, an arm, a cheek. But it’s no good, not with them all converging on her, and soon Emma finds herself surrounded. She dodges and ducks, jumping away from their reach, until, too late, she realizes they are herding her towards the shoreline.

“Swan!” Hook shouts, realizing her predicament at the same time. “Get away from her!”

A mermaid’s cold, webbed hand reaches up from the water and curls around her leg, fingers hooking around the top of her boot. Another hand does the same, fingers wrapping around her other heel. The mermaids wrench her forward, literally pulling her legs out from under her and Emma falls, hard.

Her head cracks against the solid ground, her dagger tumbling from her grip to scatter several feet away, just out of her reach, and she groans.

“Emma!”

Her vision blurry, head aching, Emma tries to sit up enough to scramble backwards, as far away from the mermaids as she can. She can hear shrieking and shouting from behind her, Hook’s sword clanging against the adornments of seashells and mummified seahorses that the mermaids wear. There are several loud splashes intermixed with the shrieks, followed by Hook’s heavy footsteps running towards her.

“Let her go! Emma!”

But, of course, the mermaids pay him no heed. Emma twists as she’s pulled closer and closer to the water, more hands reaching up from the water to grip her legs, her hips, her torso. She scrambles for anything to hold onto, but there’s nothing but loose pebbles, and Hook is still too far away, slashing viciously at the mermaids at his feet, to help her.

The icy water touches her legs then, soaking through her boots and freezing her feet. Before Emma can even let out another cry for help or even hold her breath, she is dragged forward and plunged into the cold, dark lake.

The water is so cold it numbs her instantly and, in shock, Emma remains motionless, unable to comprehend what has just happened. She can tell the mermaids are dragging her down and down, further into the depths of the lake, the faint moonlight from above fading with each passing moment.

Adrenaline surges through her, her instincts kicking in; Emma is _not_ about to let this be the end.

She’s blind in the dark water, only able to make out shadows as the mermaids move swiftly around her. Emma kicks at the ones grasping her legs, reaching down with her hands to punch too. The water slows her movements, so she twists rapidly, able to shake several of the mermaids off her.

But there’s more arriving at every moment. Emma is weaponless now, defenceless in this underwater, murky kingdom that is their domain.

Through the dim water, a mermaid swims towards her, stopping at eye-level, close enough so she can see that it’s Darya, one of the leaders from the rocks above, her black hair snaking around her in the water like an octopus’s ink cloud. She grins at Emma, her teeth coated in slime and algae.

Terrified, Emma squeezes her eyes shut, wishing she hadn’t seen that as her last look at this life. She isn’t sure how long a person can survive underwater, without oxygen, but she knows it won’t be long before she goes unconscious. Her head is pounding, even more than from when she hit it, and her lungs are burning from the lack of oxygen. Her movements turn sluggish, slowing her desperate attempts to pull away from the mermaids.

At this point, though she doesn’t want to give up, the reality of the situation is slamming into her. She can only hope her parents are able to get Henry out of here safely. That Regina and Neal will take good care of him and will be there for him as he grows up. That Hook is able to escape from these mermaids safely too, to return to the others and to tell them to go on without her.

Abruptly, there is a flurry of movement in front of Emma, a rush of bubbles hitting her in the face. She opens her eyes, blinking through the blur. Darya is gone, and there are screeches, vague and mumbled in the water, echoing around her now. They are followed by fury of swift shadows and more bubbles. The hands at her legs and torso release as quickly as they had grabbed, replaced by two strong hands that grip Emma under the arms, pulling her roughly to the side and out of their reach.

Emma is doesn’t even know which way is up at this point, but whoever has a hold of her now is swimming fast, rocketing them away from the rest of the mermaids. She tries to turn, to see who this could be. Just as she manages to turn, a rush of white bubbles blurs her vision, and her head breaks the surface of the lake.

Oxygen, cold and fresh and beautiful, rushes into her lungs. She breathes in deeply, spluttering and coughing, water pouring out of her mouth and nose. Emma twists around, coming face to face with the mermaid Senara.

Water sluices off her blonde hair, the sea glass cross at her throat glinting with buds of water. Emma gapes at her, not sure what is more surprising to her – her near drowning or that one of the mermaids have saved her.

“You –”

“You are an innocent,” Senara says firmly, as she begins swimming backwards, towards the small rocky island, tugging Emma along with her. “Our quarrel is not with you.”

Emma stares at her, but quickly closes her mouth when she swallows more water, making her splutter and cough once more. Senara tows her back by her underarms, as if she was simply the most experienced lifeguard in the world rather than a mythological creature. A few other mermaids surface around them, and Emma recognizes Darya and the others who had tried to drown her, watching with their dark, empty eyes. 

Shivering, and perhaps not from the icy water, Emma looks away, back to the small island. Its then that she realizes how far out the mermaids had dragged her. The island is far in the distance, and Emma would’ve exhausted herself trying to swim back, let alone trying to fight off mermaids at the same time.

As they draw closer, Hook’s figure, standing at the edge of the island, comes into view. He has dropped his heavy sword belt onto the rocks at his feet, his boots off to the side, looking like he was about to jump in the lake after her.

Senara brings her right up to the edge of the rocks, and Hook crouches down, leaning out over the edge so low that his sword necklace drags through the water, reaching out to her. The mermaid lifts Emma slightly, enough so she can reach up to grab a hold of his hand and hook. The metal of the hook is warm in her frozen hands, and Hook shifts his position to haul her upwards, lifting her from the water in one-fell swoop.

Water rains down from her drenched form, soaking him as she wraps her arms around him, holding on tight. Her heavy, waterlogged form changes his momentum from pulling her upwards, and they fall back, colliding hard with the ground.

“Are you alright, Swan?”

His breath is warm, and it tickles her cold face. Emma nods against his chest, tightening her grip around him. This time, she doesn’t care she is in his arms for the second time today, only that she’s back on solid ground and safe in his embrace.

Then her stomach roils, and she crawls off Hook, leaning over and coughing up a lung full of water. It burns her throat, making her gag and her eyes water.

Emma can sense Hook’s eyes on her as he gets to his feet, shoving his feet back into his black boots and gathering his sword from where he had placed it. He strides furiously over to the water, shouting, “Oi! You damned fish, you stay the bloody hell away from her!”

There is a dark rage in his expression, one Emma hasn’t really seen before. The rage darkens even further as Darya re-surfaces near them, grinning a sickly-sweet smile that makes Emma’s insides twist yet again.

“Oh, Captain. We are just getting started.”

Senara, still near Emma and Hook, lets out an annoyed snap in Mermish, swimming towards Darya. The dark-haired mermaid snaps right back, to which Senara replies with a snarl, and it quickly descends into a furious argument. Alcyone, still seated above on the rocks, joins in, her loud voice carrying and echoing over the small island.

Hook marches back towards her, fetching her dagger on his way. He presses it into her hand as he bends down next to her, before moving his hand to rest on her back, rubbing it with warming circles. She leans into it, grateful for the warmth and his touch before she realizes what he may think about that. But Hook is preoccupied, glaring at the arguing mermaids.

“Can you walk, Swan?” he murmurs, not taking his eyes off the mermaids. “We need to get out of here before they decide to try to drown you again.”

She understands his point of view, for if the mermaids had dragged him into the water to try to drown him, she’s sure she would say the same thing. But as it is, Emma shakes her head vigorously. There is no way she is going to leave this island without getting answers; she didn’t almost drown for nothing.

“We can’t go,” she says, her teeth chattering so badly that her entire body quivers. “We – we still need their help.”

Hook purses his lips, though his anger eases somewhat, a gentle edge to his voice now. “I know, love. But I don’t think they are in the mood to help us.”

He may be right, but she can’t give up yet. Shivering, Emma pushes herself to her feet, her head swimming with the movement. Hook rises beside her, hand out as if to catch her in case she falls. Her feet are slightly wobbly underneath her, but she marches as steadily as she can to the mermaids.

The argument is continuing, but several of the others look at Emma as she approaches, some with curious expressions, some haughty. She holds up her hands, as if in surrender, and clears her throat, wincing at the burn it causes.

“Please, we mean you no harm. We – we came to you to see if you could help us, if you have any information on how to save my son. Pan kidnapped him about a week ago, and he’s only eleven years old …”

A well of emotion bubbles up in her, choking off her words. The situation with Henry – her sweet boy, so young and so alone, in danger and separated from his family – has plagued her ever since she realized he was gone. She’s tried to force away the fear and worry about him, desperate to be strong enough to keep it together until they save him. But saying the words out loud bring it all to the surface, and tears prick at the corners of her eyes.

“Maybe there is a way we can help you too,” she continues, swallowing the lump in her throat and raising her voice loud enough so that the leaders finally glance her way, their argument fading. “Hook – Hook said Pan is holding something over you? Forcing you to work for him? Is there a way we can help to stop that?”

Darya snorts, flipping her hair, while Senara is intrigued and perhaps even hopeful. Alcyone, however, glares at them, her gaze so ferocious Emma hopes they don’t attack them again.

“The Captain is correct,” Alcyone says finally, sneering at Hook. “We must obey whoever holds our High Queen’s crown. Pan stole it from us many centuries ago, and it has been lost to us since.”

“We cannot fetch it ourselves,” a younger mermaid pipes up, speaking from the water. She is promptly silenced by the others, with sharp dismissals verbally and one even shoves her back under the water.

Alcyone glares at the dissipating ripples, before wrenching her gaze back to Emma. “Yes. We are unable to retrieve it ourselves.”

“Where is it?” Emma says, her heartbeat accelerating. She could care less about these mermaids and their stupid crown at this point, but if this is what gets them out of here with information to save Henry, she’s willing to say and do anything. “We’ll go get it for you. If you can tell us any information about Pan and what he wants with my son, I will go get your crown for you. And,” she adds, with a glance to Hook, the mermaids lurking in the water near his feet, “we will return it to you if both of us are allowed to leave, unharmed.”

Senara turns to Darya, her eyes pleading. For a few tense moments, the three leaders converse amongst themselves, their Mermish words harsh and staccato. Darya gestures furiously at Hook, while Senara shakes her head earnestly. It’s clear Alcyone is the tiebreaker, and whatever she finally says makes Senara grin widely and Darya scowl.

Emma and Hook exchange a look, as Senara disappears down into the water, her silver tail flicking out behind her, while Alcyone moves from her perch, slithering into the water so effortlessly her head doesn’t dip below the surface. Darya remains sour, glaring at them as Alcyone faces them, adjusting her seashells from her movement into the water.

“Fine,” says Alcyone, her eyes flashing. “We accept your offer. But we require assurances. We have seen firsthand the empty promises from the likes of your kind.”

Hook sighs and crosses his arms over his chest, hook prominently placed in the crook of his elbow. “And what kind of assurances might those be?”

Darya swims closer, making Emma take an automatic step backwards. She grins at that, delighted in her ability to make Emma flinch, but she turns her dark eyes to Hook. She holds out her hand, webbed and green-tinged to him, beckoning him forward.

Hook glances at her hand with disdain and indifference, but his eyes remain sharp and alert. “A handshake? Is that all?”

Darya nods innocently. “Is that not how deals are sealed in your world?”

Unease prickles at the back of Emma’s neck, Hook’s warning of _they are not to be trusted_ echoing in her mind. Hook doesn’t move either, brow furrowing, trying to sort out what trick this may be.

Darya shrugs, withdrawing her hand. “Fine, if you don’t want our help …”

She trails off pointedly, and Hook sighs. He tugs at his sleeve with his hook, rolling it up and out of the way, crouching down to reach out for Darya’s hand.

“Fine, get on with it then.”

Grinning, she grips his hand, reaching up with her other hand too, both encircling his, her webbed fingers stretched and veiny over his fist. She closes her eyes, muttering in Mermish, her voice trance-like. It sounds like her near-curse from when she accused Hook of treachery before, and shivers run down Emma’s back at the sound. Abruptly, she stops, her last words echoing eerily over the still water. Darya opens her eyes slowly, and they glow a dark, amber red.

“That it, then?” Hook drawls, and he tugs at his hand. Darya releases him, her eyes back to their cold black, as he glances down to his hand. He sucks in a deep breath followed by a curse, for there is an ugly red mark in the centre of his palm, as if an octopus had suctioned onto him. The circular, raised mark isn’t bloody, but is swollen and agitated, and Emma turns angrily to face Darya.

“What did you do to him?”

Darya laughs once, cold and delighted, paddling languidly in the water. “Now we have our assurances. If you fail to return to us with the crown, he will be ours. I think that a fair price for all he has done to us.” 

Emma curls her hands into fists. Her hatred of this mermaid has soared to new heights, and if Emma didn’t desperately need their help to save her son, she’d sock this bitch right in her gaunt face.

“Bloody mermaids,” Hook mutters, clenching his hand.

The mermaids bristle at the insult, some muttering angrily, others disappearing below the surface with a huff and dark glare. Alcyone flicks her tail in anger, and she snaps, “Your arrival here brought death to one of our mermaids. Our aid comes at the same price, should you fail. A life for a life.”

Emma and Hook exchange a dark glance, his expression of frustration and anger mirroring her own. This entire mission is turning out entirely backwards, but there’s no escaping now, not even if they wanted to. All Emma had wanted was information on how to save her son

Several strong waves hit the shoreline, and Emma looks over. The small boat she and Hook had arrived in rounds the rocky corner, towed into sight by Senara. The little boat is just as they left it, with the water canteens and Hook’s big jacket. When Senara pulls it up to the shoreline, Emma and Hook clamber into it without another word, settling in against the rocking of the water.

Senara touches the boat, whispering something in Mermish. The boat’s hull glows a dim blue, then fading back to its normal wood.

“This will take you to Pan’s hideout, where he keeps our Queen’s crown,” Senara explains, and she nods at them solemnly. “Good luck.”

The boat pushes itself off from the shore, cutting through the crowd of mermaids. They part for it, watching Emma and Hook float through them with their hollow eyes. This time Emma stares back at them, meeting their cold eyes with her own.

As they move further and further away from the island and out into the dark lake, away from the mermaids, Emma lifts Hook’s jacket, wrapping it around herself. The aftereffect of her plunge into the water is beginning to take hold of her. She is now shivering constantly, her teeth chattering so much her jaw is aching, and she wishes for the hundredth time she’d brought an elastic band to wrap her hair up in; the dampness of it drips down her back, chilling her all over again.

“I hate mermaids,” she grumbles, burrowing deeper into the coat, turning her face to cover her nose against the warmth of the jacket.

“Unpleasant lot, aren’t they?” Hook comments, examining his hand with a scowl. “If we weren’t trying to get vital information to save Henry, I would say let’s abandon this mission and return to your parents and Neal to await Regina so we can go after the shadow.”

“Except then your soul will be theirs, or whatever that thing on your hand does,” Emma says flatly. She shakes her head, trying to cool the rising temper that the thought of Hook lost to the mermaids had created in her. She continues, forcing her voice into a lighter, teasing tone, “Besides, the great Captain Hook wants to give up?”

He meets her gaze evenly, his eyes so intense her attempt at humour fades out of the air around them.

“They almost killed you, Emma, and that was my fault. I stirred their ire, and you nearly drowned as a result. If that mermaid hadn’t saved you …”

“That wasn’t your fault,” Emma says, more out of a reflex than anything, but its true too. Whatever he may think, Emma doesn’t blame him. The mermaids are the ones who attacked her, and even if Hook didn’t have a history with them, Emma is the one who insisted they go on this mission. The way she sees it, with such a volatile group, it was simply a matter of time before they lost their temper with them for one reason or another.

Her assurance doesn’t assuage Hook, as his expression remains dark, twisted with anger that Emma knows is directed at himself. She is unused to the intensity in his expression, the realization of how worried he had been. It makes her uncomfortable, as often someone showing any concern for her wellbeing does.

So, she presses onwards, more insistently adding, “Okay, Hook? It wasn’t your fault.”

“I appreciate that, Swan, though I do not agree with you. Regardless, you handled them well. You have us on our way to get their help to save your boy. You were far more diplomatic than myself, as I knew you were.”

Emma lets the compliment roll off her, and she shakes her head with a snort. “Getting you cursed? I don’t think so. What is the point of it, anyways? They know we want the information about Henry, of course we’ll try to find their crown.”

Hook shrugs, and his eyes drift to the water over the side of the boat, a glazed expression appearing on his face, lost and faraway. “I rather think they have no faith in our ability to get this crown in the first place, so they will take me instead.”

The thought makes Emma’s blood boil, and she grounds out, harsher than she means to, “Well, that’s _not_ happening.”

Her voice breaks Hook out of his glaze, and he shakes himself. Frowning, he glares at the water, shifting to be more in the centre of the boat. Emma glares at the lake in turn; usually she finds the water comforting, but like everything in Neverland, here it is twisted and dark, a place she has nearly drowned twice in, a lure now to Hook against his will.

Emma cannot _wait_ to get off this cursed island.

As the boat continues its journey to an unknown location, the conversation between her and Hook fades into silence, both lost in thought. She knows Hook said he had had run-ins with them before and she can only imagine the many times he and the mermaids clashed in his hundreds of years here. One of the earlier comments that Darya had made lingers in her mind, unsettling her.

“What did that mermaid mean when she said you took a soul from them?”

Hook rubs at his chin, wincing as the skin pulls around his wounded palm with the motion. “It is a dark and grim tale, Swan. One of the worst moments of my time in Neverland, in centuries of darkness.”

When Emma doesn’t speak, waiting for him to continue, Hook sighs. “Well, several decades ago, I paid a visit to Marooner’s Rock. A crewmember of mine had almost caused a mutiny, and I intended on leaving him there to rot. As I told you earlier, the mermaids and I have had a few run-ins over the centuries, such as trying to lure my crew to their deaths. We’d outrun them several times before, and in my anger at this sailor, I hoped they would take this crewmember instead of us all.”

Emma stares at Hook, shocked at the viciousness of what he is describing. She remembers how icy the water was when she was pulled in, the coldness and fear that had consumed her. To realize Hook had left someone to such a fate …

Sometimes, it’s almost easy to forget about his dark past. She knows, rationally, that a pirate would have done horrible things like marooning a mutinous sailor, but the man in front of her, who has offered his help, his ship, his services to help save her son seems worlds away from the man he describes in this tale.

Then, as always, Hook surprises her again.

“We were sailing away, listening to his screams as the mermaids approached him, when I realized that no matter what he had done, I couldn’t leave him to such a fate. To be drowned and lost to the mermaids … no one deserves that, not even a mutinous boatswain.”

His voice trails off, his brow furrowing. His regret, apparent to her even now, makes Emma feel a bit more reassured in her judgement of him, for though she knows there is darkness in his past, she is relieved to hear there were specks of light, of the Hook she has come to know, that shone through too.

“And then?” she prompts, as the silence stretches out between them, Hook’s eyes are faraway again, but this time not due to the mermaid’s curse on his hand.

He shakes his head, distractedly. “Sorry, love. I just – I was lost in thought for a moment. As I was saying, before the mermaids could arrive and claim him, I retrieved him from the rock. He swabbed the decks for the better part of a century afterwards with nary a complaint,” he adds with a wry smile. “But the mermaids were furious, especially that cursed Darya. I suppose they’ve been after me for revenge ever since.”

“At least you went back for him,” Emma says, thinking out loud. “That – that says a lot.”

Hook chuckles once, low and cold. “As I told you, love, Neverland is a dark place. Though that is no excuse for who I became while I was here. I am no hero for returning to save a man who I nearly let die in the first place. I was simply righting a wrong before it was too late.”

As they’ve been talking, the little boat has slowly worked its way to another cluster of large rocks in the lake, nearly identical to the mermaids’ island. They are near it now, and as they approach, Emma spots the opening to a cave at the top of a muddy hill. A torch flickers at its entrance, casting dancing shadows out over the dark jungle at its mouth. 

The boat bumps gently against the shoreline, and Emma and Hook exchange a determined look before they clamber out of the boat, feet sinking into dark sand. Emma is sad to leave Hook’s warm coat behind, and she rubs at her arms, trying to bring more warmth into them as they trudge up the muddy hill towards the cave.

The cave appears entirely normal as they reach it, a simple cavern in the rocky mountain, but Hook holds out his hooked arm, pausing Emma from going any further, and he narrows his eyes at the opening.

“Wait a moment, Swan. This is probably rigged up with all manner of tricks to prevent anyone from gaining access.”

“Typical.”

Dealing with a booby-trapped treasure hoard while trying to find a mermaid’s lost crown is par for the course at this point, on the same level of dealing with a maniacal eternally young boy, an echoing cave that force you to reveal secrets, or her second near drowning at the hands of mermaids either.

Hook peers into the cave, squinting against the bright torch light. “Can you sense any of his tricks, Swan?”

Emma closes her eyes, breathing deeply and trying to focus. She’s not really sure what she is doing these days with her magic, but she reaches out with her mind, feeling for the presence of any magic about.

A dark thread of magic pushes against her, fierce and strong. Its darker than she usually comes across, and Emma squeezes her eyes shut harder, pressing against the magic in turn. The dark magic swells, in her mind’s eye appearing as a black storm cloud, vibrating and pulsing with lightning. She holds fast against it, letting it swell against her own magic, a white light cracking the cloud where it hits it.

The black cloud swells once more, nearly overwhelming her, before it implodes in on itself, sending sparks of lightning dancing behind Emma’s eyes. As it fades from her vision, Emma cracks open one eye.

The cave appears exactly the same, but something in the air has shifted, lighter than it had been before. Even Hook notices, and he grins at her.

“Nicely done, Swan. Now let’s find this damned crown and get out of here.”

He leads the way, stepping into the cave first, Emma following a step behind. She is invigorated by the flow of her magic through her, a burst of dopamine and hope she hasn’t felt since learning Henry had been kidnapped. The apparently ever-burning torch at the entrance illuminates the cave, and the scene ahead makes her gasp, the shot of hope and positivity vanishing as quickly as it had come.

“So, this is where he keeps all his treasures,” Hook murmurs, half in awe, half in disgust.

The scattered treasure inside reminds her a bit of the giants’ lair at the top of the beanstalk, with countless coins, gold and silver jewellery of all types, and loose jewels and gemstones strewn out over every surface. But there are more mundane items too amidst all the glamour, a far darker hoard of treasures than any stolen jewel could be.

A broken doll, a scuffed wooden rocking horse, a faded green blanket. Loose pocket change scattered amongst playing cards, jacks, and dice, on a half-broken table, over spilling with torn photographs, newspaper clippings, and rough children’s drawings. A ripped mahogany house coat and blue ribbons are thrown carelessly onto a pile of striped pajamas and old shoes, an abandoned teddy bear with a rip down its stomach surveying the sad scene from a stack of broken alphabetical building blocks, its last phrase spelling out _HOME_.

Emma feels sick to her stomach.

“What did he even want with all this stuff?” she asks, her voice stronger than she expects it to be with the lump that has appeared in her throat.

“If it means something to someone else, he wants it.” Hook lifts a string pearls, letting it run over his fingers, thumb running over their glossy surface. “Mostly taken from the Lost Boys, a way to break them of any thoughts of leaving. Some of it was mine too, traded for one thing or another over the years.” A dark shadow crosses his expression, and Hook sets the necklace back down, shaking his head as if clearing a chill. “Come, Swan. The crown must be further back.”

The cave stretches deep into the mountain and Hook takes the lit torch to guide their way. The place gives her the creeps, and makes her angrier and angrier the more toys and belongings they pass. It’s revolting, thinking about how all these items have ended up here, and thankfully, if only for Emma’s sanity, they don’t have to search long before they find what can only be the mermaids’ crown.

Resting on a purple velvet cushion amidst other scattered jewels, the crown is made entirely of white seashells of all shapes and sizes, with ivory pearls dotted on any empty surface. Diamonds glitter at the tips of the conical seashells and a giant sapphire is set in the centre of the crown, held in place by a frame of pink pearls.

“Gaudy,” Hook comments, and Emma rolls her eyes.

She lifts it carefully from its pillow, cradling it delicately. It is surprisingly heavy, and she wonders how anyone could swim with something like this on their head.

“Let’s get the hell out of here. Pan Probably sensed me messing with his magic and the last thing I need to deal with today is that little twerp.”

<>

The journey back to the mermaids passes much quicker than the voyage to Pan’s hoard, as if the little boat can sense the crown in Emma’s lap and is eager to return it to its rightful owners. The mermaids are waiting for them, and when they catch sight of the crown, a whoop of excitement echoes over the water, the mermaids trailing them all the way back to the island.

Back on shore, Emma clutches the crown tightly in her hands. Alcyone and Darya surface near them, their wide, black eyes reflecting the crown, its white seashells shimmering under the bright moonlight. 

“You found it,” Alcyone breathes. “You actually did it.”

She stretches out her hands, beckoning Emma to give it to her, but Emma hesitates. For a moment, a single, terrifying moment, she thinks about keeping hold of the crown. This crown apparently has the power to control them, and if she holds onto it, she could force them to tell her everything they know about Pan and Henry, to force them to help against Pan.

But as soon as the thought crosses her mind, she shakes herself. No matter how desperate she may be, forcing these mermaids to tell her or help her isn’t something Emma wants to do. She may have lost a lot on this island already, but she is not going to lose her humanity.

“Here.” She leans down and places it gently in Alcyone’s outstretched hands. As it touches her webbed fingers, Hook lets out a sharp hiss, and Emma whirls around, afraid something else may have gone wrong.

But instead, Hook is holding out his hand and the swollen wound is fading before Emma’s eyes, leaving his palm as it had been before.

For once, something has worked out for them. 

“We have helped you.” Hook says, satisfied. “You have your crown, now it is time to uphold your end of the bargain.”

The mermaids chitter amongst themselves, and Alcyone smirks at Hook. She disappears into the water, followed quickly by the others. Darya remains on the surface, her eyes glittering and Emma’s stomach swoops with a sense of impending disappointment.

“We owe you nothing. Think of this as penance for your past grievances. Goodbye, Captain Hook. If you know what is good for you, you will never return to Neverland.”

And then she is gone too, and as the cove empties of mermaids, the water becoming still and calm, Emma drops to her knees, winded.

Her near drowning, Hook’s curse, the trek to find a lost crown … all of it – for _nothing_. They’ve wasted precious time here, when they could’ve been out looking for Henry or figuring out how to deal with the shadow, instead of this _stupid_ wild-goose’s chase.

“Bloody mermaids,” Hook mutters, and he kicks out at a loose pebble, sending it spiralling into the water. “I should’ve known.”

Emma stares at the water, as the ripples the pebble created fade. She feels as if she’s just been punched in the stomach, the hope at being one step closer to saving her son ripped away from her.

All of it. A _waste_.

Then, as Emma is about to fall apart, in rage and despair, the water shifts again. A blonde head surfaces in the dark waves, revealing Senara, the mermaid who had saved Emma.

She swims closer, back to the island. Emma gets to her feet, her heartbeat accelerating, and Hook steps forward, the pair exchanging a cautious, if slightly hopeful look.

As she nears them, Senara glances behind herself, checking for any of the others, but when the water remains still, she faces them and nods at them in reverence.

“Thank you for helping us. Though my sisters were not grateful, I truly am. You have freed us from centuries of enslavement to Pan. In return, as promised, I will tell you what I know about what he wants with your son.”

Overwhelmed by the whiplash of emotions, a lump grows in Emma’s throat at the thought of speaking aloud what has happened to Henry. As her words fail her, Hook notices and steps forward to speak. 

“We know he is with Pan, in his camp. Perhaps if we can learn why he was brought here in the first place, we can stop Pan before anything else happens to Henry.”

Senara nods. “Henry. I have heard of this Lost Boy. From what I have heard, Pan has been searching for the boy who is the Truest Believer, who believes in magic and truth and goodness over all else. He believes he has found this believer in your son. In Pan’s mind, the Truest Believer is the only one who can save the magic here in Neverland to maintain his eternal youth.” She pauses, and an expression of deep sorrow crosses her face as she looks to Emma with sympathy. “To do that … he requires your son’s heart.”

Emma gapes at her. His – his _heart_?

She must’ve spoken it aloud, because Senara nods. “I am sorry. The only advice I can give you is to hurry, to save your son before Pan takes him to Skull Rock. That is where he will perform the final ritual. I wish you luck in stopping him.” A wistful, pained smile crosses her face. “I too know the loss of a child and would not wish it upon my worst enemy.”

She nods at them once more, before turning and diving back into the water. Emma watches her disappear, before turning to Hook. His jaw is set, eyes blazing with determination.

“I know where Skull Rock is.”

Emma breathes out, thankful they already know their next steps without a stop at another mythical creature’s lair. “Then let’s get the hell out of here and save Henry.”

<>

<>

<>

Later, much _much_ later, when they are all back on the decks of the _Jolly Roger_ , when Pan is defeated and Henry is safely bundled in blankets below deck with Regina’s spell keeping his heart safe, when her father’s exile to Neverland is purportedly solved by Gold’s promise to Neal, when everything seems to be settling back into place and her heart can beat easily for a few minutes, Emma ventures to the top deck, searching out Hook. She hasn’t had much time with him following their adventure with the mermaids, as upon their return to her parents and Neal, Regina had been there and then their rescue mission had taken up full swing.

On the upper deck, Hook is busy readying the ship to depart, and she moves to join him, wondering if there is anything she can do to help. As she does so, she passes by the wooden mermaid from their first day here, and skids to a stop.

She stares. The statue is as pristine as the day they had left the ship; it’s hard to believe this was once a living mermaid.

“I don’t know what to do with it,” Hook admits, noticing her arrival and where her gaze is locked. “We shouldn’t take it back with us.”

Emma agrees – and what was it the mermaids had said? A life for life. Well, Senara’s knowledge and her willingness to help them had helped save Henry.

It’s only fair they return the favour.

She steps forward, and closes her eyes, hands out towards the mermaid. Regina had turned the mermaid to wood with a flick of her fingers, but it takes Emma a bit longer to figure out how to undo the spell. Regina’s magic resists her at first, but at her coaxing it finally relents, and when Emma opens her eyes again, the mermaid is no longer wood.

She gasps as the spell leaves her, clutching at her throat for air. Her eyes dart from Hook to Emma, to the rest of the group on the lower deck, now openly gaping at the re-animated mermaid.

“You’re free,” Emma says, and she gestures towards the water. “Go ahead.”

The mermaid doesn’t waste another second. She scoots herself over to the railing, hauling herself over the edge with her strong, upper-body strength and dives into the rough seas below. As her tail disappears below the surface, Hook turns to her, with a wide grin on his face, delight and even what Emma suspects to be pride shining in his eyes.

“Like I said, Swan, your diplomacy skills far outweigh anything I could muster. To save that mermaid after what they did to us … well, I am thoroughly impressed.”

Feeling lighter than she has in a long, _long_ time, and instead of rolling her eyes or walking away from such a compliment, Emma grins back at him, even bumping his arm with hers.

“Perhaps I could teach you a thing or two.”

His eyes sparkle. “I would be delighted.”

They stand there, grinning like idiots at each other, until Mary Margaret calls her name. Hook returns to his work as Emma joins her mother at the edge of the rails. She glances back up to him, watching him ready the ship to take them back home, back to Storybrooke. 

Though they haven’t talked about what will happen when they are back, Emma finds herself hoping he’ll stay in Storybrooke too. It’s a thought that would’ve made her scoff only a few days ago, but now …

There’s still a lot to sort out between them and for Emma herself too, but with his support of her with the mermaids and his invaluable aid in rescuing Henry … well, if there’s one thing this cursed island has brought her other than the return of her son, she’s glad it’s Hook.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was hard to fit this explanation in the fic itself, but I based the mermaid Senara after a Cornish saint. Legend has she was thrown (while pregnant) into the ocean by a husband who wrongly suspected her of adultery. In a church dedicated to her in Cornwall, there is a chair that is engraved with a mermaid. I merged the two stories into one, and I thought if any mermaid would end up in Neverland looking for a lost child, it would be someone like her. 
> 
> As for the story itself, I had a lot of fun delving into the Neverland setting, this was a bit darker and more introspective than I had intended it to be (I was going for a fun mermaid adventure!!!) but I really enjoyed writing this one. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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